


Assurance

by SyntheticWinter



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticWinter/pseuds/SyntheticWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jack really had sent Rhys to get the discs in CoE…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assurance

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the word-for-word dialogue in the beginning, but I think the context is important…

“What did it feel like?” He couldn’t help the question, even if he wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear the answer. “I mean, getting blown up?”

He could see Jack starting to withdraw, hear him starting to pull away, trying to protect Ianto from a truth he didn’t think the Welshman could handle. “Wasn’t the best of days.”

“No.” No, it definitely had not been. For either of them. “But did you feel it?” He heard Jack take a deep breath, almost like he was bracing himself, and he rushed on. “Or did everything just… go black?” He didn’t know which would be better.

“I felt it.”

Not that. Definitely not that.

“Shit” was somehow all he could think to say as he looked away, suddenly unable to meet Jack’s gaze for fear his own showed too much.

“Yeah.”

“Do you ever think that one day your luck will run out? That you won’t come back?” Somehow, he knew luck was the wrong word…

“I’m a fixed point in time and space. That’s what the Doctor says. I think that means it’s forever.” Jack didn’t sound especially happy. Ianto was not especially surprised.

“So one day, you’ll see me die – of old age,” he added quickly, though he knew it was unlikely. “And just… keep going?”

Jack sounded defeated when he breathed, “Yeah.”

Ianto was beginning to regret starting this conversation. “We’d better make the most of it, then.”

“I suppose.” It was a dismissal, a way to close the conversation.

Ianto wasn’t ready for that. “Like right now?”

Jack looked at him then, surprised. Ianto reveled in the eye contact, in being the center of Jack’s attention, even if just for a moment. “Ianto, the world could be ending.” He sounded faintly reproving; that was not a deterrent in the least.

“The world’s always ending,” he said, somewhat blithely. He smirked a little as he added, “And I have missed that coat.” He knew (hoped) it would make Jack smile.

It did.

Ianto’s attention wavered as Jack called out to Rhys, asking him to do something or other that would get him out of the warehouse for-

“-about 20 minutes?”

20? Ianto interrupted him quickly. “30 minutes.” Jack smirked at him as he called the new number out to Rhys, and Ianto found himself thinking about the feel of Jack’s lips on his skin. Remembering the feel of Jack’s skin against his own. And suddenly he needed it.

Rhys left with a “Sure thing” and a quick parting shot (“Just… try not to blow the place up while I’m gone, yeah?”), but Ianto barely heard him. The sound of the warehouse door slamming closed was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He turned his gaze back to Jack to find the other man already staring at him.

There was a moment of silence, of mounting tension, before it broke as both men surged forward, meeting in a heated kiss. Ianto’s hands came up to grasp Jack’s shoulders before he realized they’d moved, and Jack’s hands were already settling near his waist. The wet slide of Jack’s tongue in his mouth was good, and he made a soft noise. Jack groaned in turn, and one hand tangled in Ianto’s hair to tilt his head for deeper access.

Ianto pressed himself closer, feeling the heat of Jack’s body even through the many layers of their clothes. One hand slid up to rest lightly on Jack’s neck, not controlling, just caressing. One of Jack’s hands dropped to Ianto’s hip and pulled him closer as the man slid a leg between his. Ianto heard himself gasp, but the sound seemed far away. He was too focused on the feeling of Jack against him, of Jack’s lips under his, Jack’s tongue in his mouth, Jack’s chest and shoulders under his roaming hands as he started to strip him, Jack’s hardness grinding against his hip.

He slid the braces down Jack’s shoulders and started on the buttons, pressing himself even closer as he did so. He finally got the shirt free and yanked it off, only to groan in frustration when Jack’s t-shirt got in the way of his skin. Why did he wear so damn many clothes? Jack huffed a soft laugh against his neck and pulled back to strip the shirt over his own head, finally baring his glorious chest to Ianto’s eyes and hands. 

Ianto reached for him, running his hands over smooth planes of skin and muscle. He shivered, remembering the pitifully empty gurney he’d watched loaded into the back of that van. His hands turned suddenly frantic and he clutched at Jack, nails biting into his flesh. Jack made a sound almost like a whimper and ground harder against him.

He felt Jack’s hands sliding under the hem of his shirt as he pulled it free of his pants, and he realized that Jack had somehow discarded both his jacket and his waistcoat without him realizing it. The heat of Jack’s hands against the skin of his stomach and then his chest was so good, so real, that he shivered again, this time in pleasure. His shirt joined his coat and finally, finally, Jack pressed their bare chests together as he pulled Ianto even closer to him, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair and guide him into another kiss.

Ianto’s fingers scraped over a nipple and Jack’s hips jerked against his, and Ianto pulled back reluctantly, not far, just far enough to see as he reached between them to undo Jack’s belt. It seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to undo, and Ianto realized his hands were shaking when Jack set his own hands over them, gently pushing him away and finishing the job himself. He also undid his trousers and started to push them down his hips, but Ianto regained himself enough to stop him. 

Ianto dropped to his knees, his hands coming up to hold Jack’s hips lightly, thumbs stroking the skin above his waistband. He paused for a moment there, just relishing the contact, pressing his face forward and gently nuzzling Jack’s cock through the fabric. He was so warm. So alive. Ianto hooked his fingers under Jack’s waistband and tugged everything down, steadying Jack with a grip on his hips as he lifted first one leg and then the other to kick them away.

Ianto didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, nosing around the base of Jack’s cock before trailing his tongue up to the head. He dipped the tip into the slit, tasting precome and something indefinably Jack. Loving the taste, he did it again. Jack’s hips shuddered under his grip, but he didn’t push forward. 

Ianto smiled and acquiesced anyway to the unspoken demand, closing his lips over the head. Jack moaned quietly and Ianto took him in deeper, as far as he could, until it just brushed the back of his throat. He fluttered his tongue along the underside then pulled back, sucking hard on the head and pushing his tongue into the slit before taking him deep again. 

God, he loved the way Jack tasted, loved the feel of him in his mouth, loved the sounds Jack made, the way he couldn’t seem to help tangling his fingers in Ianto’s hair, couldn’t help pushing his hips forward that tiny bit to push him deeper into Ianto’s throat. 

Ianto let him, relaxing his throat as best he could and swallowing around the thick length. He could tell Jack was close. 

Suddenly the hands in his hair were tugging harder, and he prepared himself, eager for Jack to come in his mouth. But the hands were pulling his head away. He made a sound of protest, which was quickly silenced by the heat of Jack’s mouth as he pulled Ianto into a messy kiss. He broke it quickly, eyes dark and hazy with arousal.

“In me. Now.” His voice was husky, and it shivered through Ianto to pool heat at the base of his spine.

He kissed Jack again, stroking hands down his back, feeling the smooth expanse of warm skin, finally bringing them to rest on his ass. He tugged him closer, grinding their hips together. Their tongues tangled wetly and Ianto moaned at the feel of Jack against him, so solid and warm and alive. God, he’d been so afraid…

Jack’s mouth moved to his neck, licking and sucking and biting, surely leaving marks on the pale skin, but Ianto couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted Jack to mark him, to claim him as his, to reassure him that they were both here, both okay. Still together. Teeth scraped over his pulse point, and he shivered. 

Then Jack was tugging at him impatiently, dragging him over to the *couch and pushing him down on it, moving to straddle Ianto’s hips. He ground down and Ianto gasped, reveling in the feel of their hard cocks rubbing against each other. He grasped Jack’s hips and ground up in counterpoint, increasing the friction and drawing a moan from deep in Jack’s throat.

In one sudden blur of motion, Jack hooked a leg under Ianto’s and flipped them, drawing him down into a heated kiss at the same time. Ianto slipped his tongue into Jack’s mouth, stroking over the familiar ridges and grooves, tangling with Jack’s tongue as it pushed back. The wet, slick warmth, combined with the friction from their continued grinding, soon proved too much, and Ianto pulled back, gasping as he buried his face against Jack’s neck. 

He pulled back, meeting Jack’s darkened eyes. Jack nodded and spread his legs, and this time Ianto took the hint. He shifted back to kneel between Jack’s legs. “Do you have-?” Before he’d even finished the question, Jack was fishing around in the pockets of his greatcoat, draped over the back of the couch, and shoving a tube of lube into Ianto’s hand. How he even had it, considering Ianto had done the shopping, Ianto had no idea. But he was Captain Jack Harkness, and Ianto had better things to do right now than think.

He slicked his fingers quickly and reached down, pushing two into Jack. Jack grunted but immediately pushed back, driving Ianto’s fingers deeper. Ianto crooked them, and was rewarded when Jack’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a throaty moan. He began to move his fingers, thrusting shallowly, twisting and curling, and added a third. The sight of Jack panting and writhing beneath him, pupils blown so wide, skin flushed with pleasure and arousal, and the feel of him so tight and hot around his fingers, was almost enough to make Ianto come before they’d even really started. He felt so in tune with Jack’s body, so connected, even though they weren’t, yet, not really. He moaned when Jack moaned, gasped when he gasped, and when Jack arched up after a particularly rough twist of his fingers, Ianto could almost feel the ghost of Jack’s fingers inside him. 

He shivered, his fingers curling reflexively, and Jack made a sound somewhere between a groan and whimper. Ianto couldn’t help it; he leaned down to take Jack’s lips again, muffling further sounds as he very purposefully crooked his fingers to press hard against that spot that drove Jack wild. Jack’s hips bucked up and he reached down blindly, dragging Ianto’s hand away from him. The look in his eyes said “Now” every bit as clearly as the growl in his voice.

Ianto slicked his cock quickly, lifting one of Jack’s legs to rest over his shoulder, then lined himself up and pushed into Jack on one slow, smooth stroke. Jack groaned, tightening reflexively before he relaxed, Ianto settling deep inside him. He held still a moment, letting them both adjust. Honestly, he figured he needed the time more than Jack did, needed a moment to get himself back under control. Jack was so hot and tight around him, so welcoming, so good. No matter how many times they did this, each time was somehow the best. Jack shifted under him, pushing his hips up against Ianto’s, tightening the leg he’d wrapped around Ianto’s waist, and Ianto grunted with the effort of holding still. Finally, after long moments and more of Jack’s impatient shifting, he began to move, drawing back slowly and sliding back in at the same pace. His thrusts were careful and controlled, and the friction between them was slowly driving him mad. He sped up almost without meaning to and Jack cried out, arching his back to get closer, to take Ianto deeper. At that, Ianto lost control. Pulling back almost entirely, he gripped Jack’s hips and slammed back into him, hard. Jack cried out again, louder, so Ianto repeated the motion. 

Soon, Jack was whimpering and bucking beneath him as Ianto continued to thrust hard and fast, driving into him with all the force of his earlier fear and his relief at finding Jack not gone. Still here. Jack arched, clenching around him, and Ianto thrust faster, relishing the heat and friction. One of his hands slid up to caress Jack’s chest, unconsciously coming to rest over his heart. Still here.

It felt so good, Jack beneath him and around him, sweating, panting, and making those sounds. God, he was close. Already. His hand tightened on Jack’s hip. The hand trailed down to his knee, which he grasped and lifted higher, changing the angle. Jack gasped, shuddering and clenching, and he knew he had it. He kept thrusting at the new angle, drawing mewls and whimpers and cries from Jack’s throat as he continued to hit that spot every second or so thrust. The hand on Jack’s chest slipped down to wrap around his straining cock, and suddenly Ianto wanted more. This was good, so good, but it wasn’t enough.

He pulled out suddenly, listening to Jack’s disappointed and confused noise through the haze in his mind. He let Jack’s legs fall from around him, shifting around until he could straddle the older man. Bringing Jack’s hand to his lips, he sucked a few fingers into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks lewdly. It had the desired effect. Jack’s eyelids fluttered and he moaned. Ianto wiggled his tongue into the webbing between two of the fingers, and Jack’s upper body surged off the couch, free hand tangling in Ianto’s hair as he dragged him down into a kiss.

Ianto grabbed the hand with the slicked fingers and drew it behind himself. “Please.” Jack’s eyes, so close to his own, were far too understanding, and Ianto broke his gaze to bury his face against Jack’s neck, biting down and gently worrying the skin there when Jack’s fingertips teased around his hole. He gasped as Jack slid one in slowly, canting his hips back against the invading digit. Jack swirled his finger deeper and Ianto shivered. When one finger became two and then three, he clutched at Jack’s shoulders, fingernails digging in to skin, making marks that he knew would be gone in just a few minutes.

He used the leverage of his grip on Jack’s shoulders to grind down harder against the fingers inside him. He could hear himself beginning to pant as Jack twisted his fingers, eliciting such pleasurable sensations that Ianto almost came right then. He pressed back, riding Jack’s fingers, trying to get them even deeper inside. 

And then Jack was pulling them out and Ianto whined, not wanting it to end. Jack returned a scant moment later, pressing something considerably larger than his fingers against Ianto’s opening. He gripped Ianto’s hip with one strong hand, holding the base of his cock steady as he slowly pressed the head in. Ianto gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the growing pressure as Jack worked himself slowly deeper with shallow thrusts, tugging Ianto’s hips down gently to meet his own. Ianto heard a sound like desperation and belatedly realized he was the one who had made it as he pressed himself down, for once not willing to follow whatever pace Jack set, needing Jack now.

There was no pause once Jack was fully seated within him, just time enough for a quick inhale and then the thrusting started. They moved together in a familiar rhythm, Ianto grinding down as Jack thrust up, the older man’s hands on Ianto’s hips to steady him, one of Ianto’s hands on Jack’s shoulder for leverage, the other splayed across his chest, feeling the pulse at the base of Jack’s throat against his fingertips. 

Ianto’s eyes fluttered closed as he rode Jack, but he forced them back open. He needed to see, to know that Jack was really here, warm and real and alive. God, he’d been so afraid to never have this again. There were no words this time, just heated gasps and moans, and the sound of their bodies moving together. Sometimes, Ianto reflected through the haze of lust and pleasure, they didn’t need words. 

Seemingly by mutual consent, their rhythm sped up, Ianto’s hips slamming down faster and faster, taking Jack deeper as Jack bucked up to force himself farther inside. Ianto felt incredible, so stretched and full and complete. The pleasure coursing through his veins was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, the usual carnal pleasure of sex with Jack mixing with the heavy feeling of relief at knowing Jack was alive, mixed with an indefinable something he felt deep in his chest and thought he saw reflected in Jack’s eyes.  
Jack shifted his grip on Ianto’s hips, tugging harder, and Ianto’s rhythm faltered. Jack deftly flipped them so that Ianto was lying back against the opposite arm of the couch, the new position allowing Jack more control to thrust harder and faster, and Ianto moaned out his appreciation. His legs settled to either side of Jack’s waist as Jack thrust deep almost reaching and filling the terrible emptiness Ianto had felt since he’d watched the Hub explode with Jack in it. He whimpered, arching up to meet him, desperate to take him that last tiny bit.

Jack gripped his legs and pushed them nearly to his chest, the change in angle causing him to unerringly hit Ianto’s prostate on every thrust. He cried out sharply, so desperate to come but not wanting to without Jack. Jack answered his cry with a deep groan of his own. They were already both so close to the edge.

The burning fullness of Jack’s thick cock inside, the sparks of pleasure radiating out from deep within him coupled with the pressure against his chest and his seeming inability to gasp in enough air pushed him over the edge. It took only a handful of rolling thrusts, his leaking cock trapped in the delicious friction between their sweat-slick bellies, for him to come.

Distantly, through the haze in his mind and the faint ringing in his ears, he heard himself call Jack’s name.

Above him, Jack thrust hard a few more times, then slammed as deep inside him as he could, gripping Ianto’s hips to hold the younger man to him as Jack emptied himself inside him.

They lay like that awhile, catching their breath and trying to calm their racing hearts. Ianto’s legs began to cramp, so he lowered them to wrap around Jack’s waist. Jack made to pull out, to shift them around into as comfortable a position as could be managed on the small couch, but Ianto tightened the grip he now had with his legs and grasped Jack’s shoulders. He just… needed this assurance a while longer. Jack seemed to understand, for he settled back against Ianto, letting most of his weight rest on his elbows to keep from crushing the Welshman. Ianto was having none of that. He tugged Jack closer with the grip on his shoulders, pressing their chests together, relishing the sticky-slick feel of drying sweat and come between them. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders, one hand just stroking the smooth expanse of skin, the other coming up to tangle in sweat-damp hair as he guided Jack into a gentle kiss.

It was slow, languorous, more to comfort and reassure than to arouse, and though neither of them had said those three words, Ianto felt them. He felt them in the slow glide of Jack’s tongue over his lips, the root of his mouth, his teeth. He felt them in the steady pulse of Jack’s slowing heart pressed so tightly against his chest. He felt them in the way their heartbeats seemed to sync up like this. He felt them in the way Jack’s arms slowly came around to hold him close as they continued to kiss. He felt them from himself and from Jack, and somehow it didn’t matter that neither had said the words. Some things were said better without words. “I love you” was one of those things. “I’m here” was another; “you’re here” still another. There was an entire language of the body that could communicate things about which mere words fell short. For now, Jack was saying all of that and more simply by holding him, kissing him. And as Ianto returned the same, he was filled with hope for the first time in a long while. Hope that maybe there would be an end to this. Hope that maybe he could have a future. With Jack.


End file.
